Runaway Nightmares
by EclecticFan22
Summary: Lisa's vague description of her past left a lot to be desired and when she has a particularly bad nightmare Leo finds out more than she would have liked him to know but perhaps it's for the better, they would have found out sooner or later, it was so obvious. Lisa needs her friends, especially now that danger may be so close, her past may be catching up to her.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N - This is my first ever fanfiction, I've just started it, have a vague idea of where its going, if you think its ok please say so, I'd love to hear feedback, positive or negative. I'm enjoying giving this a go so please let me know what you think :) thank you for reading, enjoy!**

Lisa's Nightmare - Chapter 1

Leonardo Da Vinci woke suddenly from a deep sleep and was, at first, unsure of why. There seemed to be nothing out of place.

As always, he was lying on his blanket-bed on the floor of the upper level of the workshop. The room was dimly lit by moonlight coming in through the window which was only partially concealed by a tattered rag. He could see the shadows of the cloth dancing faintly on the ceiling. The scent filling his nostrils was the same as always: Dusty, paint-like musk. He felt perfectly comfortable – or as comfortable as you can get in a blanket-bed on the floor – scratchy sheets rough against his fingertips.

He could hear a slight breeze whispering through the streets outside, chickens somewhere far off, the rustling of the other apprentices, their heavy breathing, a child whimpering…wait, no… not a child. The sound was too near. Leonardo's ears tuned-in to the pitiful sound. It was soft and child-like yet troubled, accompanied by quick breaths and the sound of moving sheets as if someone were tossing and turning. As he became more aware, Leo realised that this distressed child was lying right beside him. Not a child at all. It was Lisa.

Leo blinked deliberately, trying to wake himself more fully, and pushed himself up onto his elbows so he could look at her. He was almost relieved to discover her to be asleep. She was merely having a nightmare and all he would have to do was wake her up. He didn't really fancy dealing with an emotional girl at this time of night, probably crying about staining her dress or something.

Leo stopped and mentally chastised himself for thinking as such. Lisa was not like that, not at all, if she was upset then it would have to be something serious and he knew it was wrong to begrudge someone their feelings.

A slightly louder cry brought him out of his thoughts. He blinked at Lisa, taking in her troubled appearance: her forehead was slightly sweaty and creased in a frown, eyes tightly shut, tears escaping the corners but mouth open, she fidgeted, getting more frantic by the second. Her long curly hair was beginning to escape the short wig and her hands were tight fists around handfuls of blanket.

Conscious of the other, possibly awake apprentices, Leo chose to use her boy name, for safety.

"Tom…Tomaso, Tom, Tom! Wake up. Tom…" He whispered hurriedly but she didn't respond. He reached out to shake her shoulder but with her frantic movements his hands brushed her cheek instead. The touch was light but Lisa started away from it gasping, getting even more distressed.

Leonardo didn't know quite what to do. Foolishly, he reached out with both hands and roughly grabbed her shoulders. Only wishing to break her from the torment of the nightmare, he had meant well but he didn't know he'd made the wrong move until it was too late.

As he put his arms out he continued calling to her, using her fake name to protect her identity. The moment his hands made contact with her body and began to shake, Lisa's body language changed.

She suddenly stilled, tense as a taut rope, then her eyes sprang open but somehow she seemed still stuck in the nightmare. Her eyes rolled in their sockets, as if moving around the room but not actually seeing anything. She began to struggle hard, trying desperately to escape his grip, like she thought he was attacking her or something.

Just as he was about to let go, Leo saw her open her mouth and take a deep breath in. She was going to scream. Instinctually, Leo clamped his hand over her mouth, muffling her scream. He hoped no one woke up to find her this way, she would be found out for sure. He tried his best to quiet her, reassure her but she seemed to be totally unaware of him. She knew only her nightmare and feeling trapped.

Leo's reaction to her scream, despite keeping the others from waking, scared Lisa further and she struck out to try to free herself. She caught him square in the stomach with her fist. He quickly let go of her and put his hands over his midriff, trying to protect himself from another blow. Lisa took her chance and clambered clumsily out of bed and started to run down the stairs into the main workshop.

At the loss of contact, he realized she was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N - So, here's a chapter 2! See what you think ****and let me know, it's twice as long as the first one but I had more to say so it had to be longer. Thanks so much to TheAlpaca'sSubmarineSandwich for my first ever review on my first ever fanfic, this is kind of for you because I wrote it immediately after reading your review :) enjoy!**

_At the loss of contact he knew she was gone._

Leo cursed lightly as he glimpsed Lisa's hair whip round the corner. Her wig lay on the floor where it must have fallen when she scrambled out of bed.

The whole struggle had lasted only seconds and Leo was still sitting dumb, sluggish with sleep. He rubbed his bleary eyes and hauled himself off the floor. In the back of his mind he marvelled at the strength of Lisa's punch, it wasn't bad but he was sure he was going to have a bruise.

Having not heard the workshop door open or close, he knew Lisa hadn't gone outside. That was good, in her state who knew what could happen to her. He took his time descending the rickety wooden stairs, cautiously and quietly. The last thing he wanted was the Maestro to come running in and see Lisa without her wig.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs he stood still for a moment. It was difficult to see in the night-time half-light so he used his ears instead. He listened intently to the sounds around him. There was still the clucking of the broody chickens, the swish of the rag in the breeze but no sleeping apprentice noises could be heard from down here. Scuffling in the corner. He turned his head towards the sound. It was too small. A mouse perhaps, judging by the squeaking. He filtered it out.

Leo used to dismiss his ears. They weren't important to him, just odd, fleshy growths on the sides of a person's head which could, in some cases, make or break their appearance; their level of attractiveness to others depending on their size or angle. Now they fascinated him: the anatomy, the science of an ear, this amazing palette of sound, a net ready to catch each and every delicious movement around him. You don't need your eyes to see. Hearing just one sound can show you a great number of pictures and just like paintings, each one can mean something different to each person. A soft hum might show a violin or a singer to Lisa; an engine or a small machine to Leo. Art isn't just in the visible or even the tangible. It can be enjoyed through sound, words, music or touch or feeling.

Although trying to find Lisa in the dark may not have been as insightful as Leo's philosophical musings, it did not make them irrelevant.

Ah, there, a human sniffling, In the background, ragged breathing and slight shuffling. It came from behind him, along the back wall. Leo frowned. He still couldn't see her. He squinted to the left of a tall bookcase, where the sound had seemed to come from. There was the middle workbench with Tom's bowls of paint on top, a scraggy cloth laid over it. He noticed it was lying slightly out of alignment, one bowl closer to the edge of the bench, like someone had pulled it.

He sighed then turned to his right and picked up a candle from a small table and found matches in a drawer. He lit the candle and turned again to face the back wall.

With the help of the extra light, Leo spotted the toe of a foot protruding from beneath the workbench, behind the cloth. Relieved to have found her but still cautious, he dropped to the floor and placed the candle in a holder next to him.

"Tom?" He whispered gently to the tablecloth, "It's just me, you're ok, you just had a bad dream. Try not to panic, I'm going to lift the cloth…ok? This cloth isn't as good at witty conversation as you, I'm going to have to give up on it." He hoped his little whispered joke might help Lisa feel more at ease but when he lifted the cloth with his hand, so it no longer hung past the top of the bench, Lisa flinched and crawled further back, away from him. She kept going back until she came up against the wall and was forced to stop.

"Shh, shh, shh, Lisa, Lisa, it's ok." Leo quickly swapped to using her real name in an effort to get through to her.

She looked so small there, hunched up under the table, head resting on her arms, forearms supported by her knees, wavy brown hair falling over her face like a curtain. Leo imagined it had the texture of silk. He had a sudden urge to paint her but pushed it aside, favouring the stronger and more sensible urge to make her feel better. Her shoulders shook, whether with shivers or sobs he wasn't sure. He took a deep breath and spoke again, at the sound of his voice Lisa froze.

"Lisa, Lisa you're ok, you're going to be fine, just calm down. You're here with me, Leo, remember?"

Lisa's voice finally reached him from her huddle, "Please don't hurt me." She whispered, clearly terrified.

Leo gasped, "I would never hurt you Lisa, It's me." Why did she think he was going to hurt her? Was it because he'd grabbed her? He hadn't meant to scare her, he just wanted to help. "Look at me, look at me." He still spoke softly, emphasising 'look' and then sat silently, waiting.

Very slowly, Lisa raised her head. Leo could see that, although her cheeks were tearstained, her eyes were now clearer than they had been. It appeared the nightmare had finally left her. Even so, she was obviously shaken by the experience, still scared. Her eyes darted around, from Leo's own to the room behind him to her nearest escape route, the main door.

Leo reached his hand out towards her and was relieved to see that she did not flinch. She leaned away slightly and made no effort to take his hand. But she didn't flinch.

"Take my hand, ok? Come on," He coaxed her tentatively. She carefully took his hand and allowed him to pull her a little closer, "That's it, now just-"

Lisa suddenly launched herself at him. At first he thought she was panicking again but when she reached him she just pulled herself close to his chest and closed her eyes.

"-come out of there." Leo finished his sentence lamely. He then put his arms around her in a firm embrace. "It's ok, you're ok. Everything's going to be fine. It was just a dream." He comforted her as best he could but couldn't help feeling a little useless.

As he rubbed her back with his hand, Lisa started to relax a little, she turned her face up to Leo's and sounding tearful said, "Don't let him hurt me again, please."

Leo frowned, "Who? It was just a dream Lisa." Her eyes became unfocussed for a moment, "I had to escape." Her fingers scrunched up his shirt in to bunches of strained fabric and fist.

Leo watched her, as she seemed lost in some memory, probably whatever horrible dream it was that had put her in this state. He looked a little harder at Lisa's face. Her complexion was really quite pale and there were tiny beads of sweat on her forehead, her mouth was slightly open and her lips were dry. Her eyelashes were still sticking together with the remnants of tears and her cheeks seemed almost sunken.

He slowly took his hand from her body and placed the back of it against her forehead. It felt unusually hot considering the cool air in the room. He thought back to the previous day, Lisa had been quieter than normal; she had turned down ice cream with him, Mac and Lorenzo and had gone to bed early. It dawned on him that she must be sick, probably just a virus but the fever must have affected her sleep and by extension her nightmare.

It was true that it wasn't the first time he'd been woken by Lisa's cries but that was partly to do with being so close to her, spatially, and that fact that he himself was a light sleeper. Usually a little nudge sorted it out and they both glossed over the issue. He'd once asked her about her nightmares but the look on her face had been one of such fear that he had never brought it up again, after a hasty change of subject.

Leo pulled himself out of his thoughts and pushed Lisa away from his chest. When she was steadily sitting on her own he put on a stern expression, "You should have told me you're not feeling well."

"What?" Lisa looked confused then avoided his gaze, "I'm fine."

Leo raised his eyebrows.

Lisa frowned then reluctantly rephrased, "I'm sure I'll be fine by tomorrow."

"Come on, you're going back to bed straight away and in the morning you're telling Maestro that you're sick so he can let you rest." Leo asserted, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet.

"Leo." Lisa groaned but allowed him to guide her back upstairs. She was so exhausted by the top that Leo had to support her to their corner.

His worried eyes watched her for a long while before he fell asleep again himself.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Leo felt a vague sense of déjà vu as he slowly roused himself. He was very groggy, probably due to his midnight awakening and felt like he'd hardly slept at all.

Once again his brain took too long to realise that the high sun streaming light through the window meant, in short, he was late.

He leapt up, staring about him in dismay at the fact that everyone else was already up. He grabbed his clothes and changed hurriedly. Not even bothering to look himself over, Leo ran down the stairs and straight into Maestro.

They both went crashing to the ground, paintbrushes cascading out of Maestro's hands.

Leo fell on his rear with a thud and felt the eyes of every apprentice on him. He quickly scrambled into a kneeling position and hurried to gather the fallen brushes.

"I'm so sorry Maestro, I should have been looking where I was going."

Maestro sighed and raised his eyebrows in a look of bemusement. He spoke with an annoyed tone.

"You'd do well to look at a clock from time to time as well. I'm not surprised you were in such a rush, you're an hour and a half late." Leo's cheeks flushed pink and he lowered his gaze. "Pick up these brushes and help Tomaso wash them. He's been just as clumsy as you, Leonardo, though I didn't think it were possible."

Leo's eyes scanned the busy workshop in search of Lisa. The room was lined along the walls with workbenches and shelving. In the centre was a headless mannequin with a pinkish pleated dress draped artistically over it and a circle of easels and apprentices around about it, they all stared intently at the dress, judging distances and folds, colour depth and shadows with varying levels of success. He found her off to the side, washing palettes over a pail, the remnants of a broken one in a pile next to her and a splatter of just-drying paint on her shirt. What was she doing up? She was supposed to be resting.

"Presto!"

Leo jolted into action at Maestro's call, retrieving all the paintbrushes as he walked away. Leo carefully carried them across the workshop to Lisa and her pail. He placed them delicately on the dusty floor and pulled up a paint-spattered stool.

She had not looked up the entire time he'd been downstairs. He sat still and silent, staring at her wig as it was the part of her that was closest to him. Studying each carefully woven-in strand as he waited for her to acknowledge him. She fidgeted uncomfortably under his gaze. He did not waiver and eventually she snapped.

"What?" Lisa almost shouted, her voice high and clearly annoyed. Leo raised his eyebrows and Lisa seemed to remember where she was, she adjusted her voice so it was less high and girly, "What?" and less hysterical. It was so easy to wind her up. Leo took up a paintbrush and leant down towards the pail to wet it then sat back and started to work the red paint out of the strands. Lisa was still sitting opposite him with the same expression, her question hanging in the air. He did love to tease her.

Without looking up, Leo answered her in a nonchalant tone, "You're supposed to be resting." When she didn't immediately reply he looked up. She was no longer annoyed, she just looked tired. He heard her sigh and saw her shoulders slump slightly.

"I'm feeling better." She said noncommittally.

Leo frowned. She didn't look better. She was still as pale as a blank canvas and she looked exhausted, eyes slightly red. He didn't want to push her too far so he dried the now clean brush and put it aside. He sighed and looked at Lisa's relatively small collection of clean palettes and teetering pile of dirty ones. It was going to be a long morning for the both of them he realised as he considered his armful of paintbrushes to clean also. Leo picked up another brush and continued quietly with his task.

A short time later, he looked up to see Lisa stifling a giggle and looking at him like he was a kitten that had gotten its head stuck in a cup. Leo smiled, "What's so funny?" He asked, looking himself over. "Have I got paint on my face?" He started rubbing at his cheek, "Where is it?"

Lisa leaned towards him and took hold of his wrist, pulling it down from his face. Her hand felt warm and soft and made his wrist feel tingly for a second, her face was close to his. Leo found himself staring as her eyes drifted to his shoulder, holding a playful scorn in their chestnut depths.

"You've got you shirt on…" Her hand moved to his shoulder and lingered before grasping the fabric lightly between feminine fingertips. Her looks would be sure to get her into a lot of trouble sooner or later. "…inside-out." Lisa finished in her usual breathy voice, still smiling at him like he was a silly yet adorable child.

"Oh!" The word was drawn out and sounded funny as he said it. Leo turned his face to the side and saw that Lisa was in fact holding the seam of his shirt, the part that should be on the inside. "Oops." He said, laughing.

Leo leaned back again and Lisa released his shirt. He quickly grasped its bottom hem and pulled it up over his head, turning it the correct way out in the process. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Lisa had stopped mi-scrub and was staring. As he pulled the sleeves out properly she seemed to recover herself and hurriedly went back to her palette, avoiding eye contact. Leo smiled a little as he put his shirt back on, he was surprised at how uncomfortable Lisa still was with the boys changing in front of her, it had been weeks but she still didn't seem to feel like one of the boys.

There was a light blush on her face as she made what seemed like an excuse to get away from him, "I'd better get some fresh water, this is filthy." She grasped the handle of the pail and stood. The second she was upright her face turned white and she swayed, eyes unfocussed. Her knees must've buckled as she sat back down hard on her stool, some water sloshing onto the floor as the pail hit the ground.

"Woah, Tom, are you ok? What's wrong?" Leo leant towards her as she bent low, head between her knees.

It struck him that this past 12 hours was the closest he and Lisa had ever been, both physically and emotionally. They had definitely become friends earlier but something about last night had changed things, if only a little. He realized he was worried about her, she was suffering but he felt it wasn't just because she was ill, there was something else. Something that gave her nightmares and that made her nervous of being touched and jump if she wasn't expecting it. His suspicions were immediately confirmed.

Lisa slowly sat upright again, eyes closed. Leo casually put out his hand, like last night, and rest it on her forehead to feel her temperature. For the split second they made contact she felt very hot but it was only a split second.

Lisa's eyes flew open and they were again wild. She lurched right back and held her arms up, as if to shield herself. She nearly fell off her stool in her haste. A moment later she seemed to realize what she'd done and looked at him with a terrified and pleading expression. "I'm sorry, please." She squeaked out before throwing the pail aside, it rolled over by the wall, and stumbling towards the workshop door and out. All in a few seconds.

Leo felt as if his mind was spinning, he was still sat on his stool, hand outstretched. He stood and sighed. Deciding to find Lisa rather than chase her, he retrieved and righted the pail and glanced towards Maestro's door: closed. He grabbed his bag from a hook nailed to the wall and dumped his apron in its place. His sense of déjà vu returned as he began his second search for Lisa in as many days.


	4. Chapter 4

**So…Hi! I know anyone who read the first chapters has probably given up the possibility of another one by now but I like to surprise people so here it is. I really really hope one year on I haven't lost my sense of the characters or the story :S please if anyone reads, let me know what you think. Did it fit? Is it boring? I want any and all constructive criticism :) thank you in advance :D**

_His odd sense of déjà vu returned as he began his second search for Lisa in 24 hours._

The atmosphere in the street was different to that of the workshop. He stepped out of busy babble and purposeful activity into almost complete quiet. The small alleyway that lead from the workshop to the main street was deserted, all he could hear was the dull and far off mumble of Florence's daily life.

Leo tramped down the dusty, yellow alley disappointed. Lisa had not been just outside the door as he'd foolishly hoped. He had no idea where to look for her, Florence was a maze. In her panic, he expected Lisa would have first moved instinctively towards the piazza, a journey they took almost every day. He set off that way at a swift walking pace, no need to run, a chase would help no one. Nearing the crowds he stopped. Lisa wouldn't want to encounter swathes of people. She would stick to the small side streets and probably try to find a nook where she could hide and calm down in peace. He raised his eyes skyward as he prayed she hadn't been stupid enough to hide in the catacombs.

Leo faltered. He didn't know which way to go and he didn't want to lose her completely or miss her by going too far if she had already turned back. He sighed and took a few steps back the way he came to a small set of stairs. They led to the old doorway of an empty house so he was confident he wouldn't be in the way. He sat down and got ready to wait. The steps were just around the corner from the workshop so there was no way he could miss her return.

He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. He was still feeling the effects of his interrupted sleep and so immediately felt more restful with his eyes closed. The ground was hard and the stone warm in the sunshine. He listened carefully, again picking out sounds from the acoustic web of the city, all the time waiting for soft footsteps to approach and shatter his quiet. As an apprentice, you rarely got time to just sit in the sun and listen to the breeze, smell the smells it brought, feel its welcome coolness. Despite the circumstances, he was thankful for the moment.

Not for all that long though as it turned out. Busy minds need constant stimulation and worried minds need answers. He quickly became impatient, he refused to acknowledge his impatience as anything but that. He was restless; pulling at loose threads on his shirt and picking at the skin around his fingernails.

What was taking her so long? Was she okay? She was ill. Maybe he'd underestimated and she'd collapsed in some alleyway. Or maybe she had taken off for real and was halfway to Rome by now. He stood and began pacing. Suddenly the sun was too hot, the stone too bright, the air too thick, his brain thinking too quickly. He took a deep breath, his whole body tense and sat down again.

Before his worrying could escalate any further – though how that could be possible was a mystery to him – he heard them: soft, slow footsteps. Round the corner she came, head down, with an expression on her face that simply showed exhaustion, pure, honest and overwhelming exhaustion.

Leo leapt to his feet, still tense. His fast movement caught her attention and she looked up. Quickly he tried to relax himself, appear casual like he'd merely been enjoying the sun. Of course he hadn't been worried. Lisa lowered her eyes again and seemed to stand even more slumped. It was as if all her energy was going into remaining upright and shuffling slowly forward.

"Sorry." She whispered to the ground. Leo approached he slowly and tried to catch her eye. Though his first instinct was to raise her chin with his hand, he sensed it wouldn't be a good idea to try to touch her again. He bent his knees and tilted his head, aware he must look ridiculous but determined to get into her line of sight.

"Hey, it's ok," he spoke gently, "Why did you run?" She turned her face to the side, blinking repeatedly, still avoiding eye contact.

"I…I thought…never mind. It doesn't matter." Leo frowned, "Clearly it matters to you. You've been acting really strange today. I know last night was pretty full on," She visibly cringed at the mention of their experience, "but you can tell me what it is you know, I can handle it. You're scared of something and I want to help." Suddenly she looked him straight in the eye, "You can't." She muttered before pushing past him.

"Has someone been hurting you? They have, haven't they?"

Lisa had walked past him, he hadn't dared to try to stop her after that look, and now had her back to him so he could not see her reaction. Her voice travelled clearly to him though, "It was just a nightmare." She sounded strange, her voice was sort of shaky. Leo stepped closer and noticed that she was shivering, her arms drawn around herself, jaw set. His worry returned.

It had to be midday by now, the sun was hot, he had been sweating when he was pacing and Lisa had on enough layers for winter, let alone late spring as it was now. "We should go back, you're not well, really." Lisa said nothing, just slowly started shuffling along the street to the workshop. Leo followed a step behind, his thoughts and worries scrambling over one another to get the front.

When they reached home, Lisa didn't protest, she didn't even look at Leo, she just climbed the stairs and collapsed on her blanket-bed fully clothed. Before he knew it she had disappeared under the covers and Maestro was looking down at him sternly. Leo sighed wearily, "Tomaso isn't well today sir, I'll clean the palettes for him."

"Yes, I should think so after disappearing off like that. And Tomaso had better get his colour back for tomorrow. I've got a big job for you all." He bustled off out the door and Leo trudged back to his stool, only to discover the pail still overturned and obviously empty.

Just as he was returning with fresh water, he was roughly knocked to the floor by a dark blur. He blinked water out of his eyes, stunned for a second but registering a pain in his tailbone which certainly wasn't pleasant.

As his vision cleared he realized he was face to face with a wide-eyed, raggedy-looking black girl with a faded yellow headscarf on and a prominent scar in the left corner of her mouth. Lisa has a scar like that he mused absently.

Before he could say a word the girl jumped up, threw a small envelope in his general direction and sped off out the door again. If it weren't for the letter and the water dripping off him from every surface he'd have questioned if she had really been there at all.

He got clumsily to his feet and picked up the letter. He registered shock then confusion then finally foreboding as he read the address on the letter.

In rather scrawly writing it simply said "Lisa, Florence."

It had to be from home which could mean many things and of all the possibilities Leo could think of, none of them were good.


End file.
